


Stone the Crows

by Draycevixen



Category: V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: Accents, Crack, F/M, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't even quite remember the chain of events that prompted this stupidity. I know it involved a bottle of wine and some... erm... merry exchanges with fandom friends.</p><p>If V's background had been a little... different, how would it have affected the opening of the film? I simply cannot apologize enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

.

V loomed up suddenly out of the shadows, to stand menacingly over the last fingerman left alive.

“Jesus Christ, mercy,” the fingerman cowered away, trying to shield his head with his arms.

“What a load of old cobblers. You was well up for some aggro an’ a Chelsea smile’ll suit you,” V muttered as he finished the man off.

 

With a sweep of his cape, V turned to face Evey who was scrambling to pick up her mace.

“’Allo darlin’. What the bloody ‘ell are you doin’? Mace? I just killed all these geezers for you!”

“Who are you?” Evey cowered away a little further.

“Stupid bint, ask me another one. I’ve got a bloody mask on.”

“I can see that.”

“Course you can. Nothin’ wrong wif your mince pies, just thick as two short planks.” V’s gloved hands rose slowly to point at his head. “Oim… wearin’… a… mask.”

“Oh, Right.” Evey turned her head, embarrassed.

“Now, now darlin’, don’t take it so ‘ard. Can’t give you me Clark Kent is all I’m sayin’.” V shook his head. “I’ve bin workin’ on somefink to clean up me accent. I’m goin’ on the telly soon. Try this on for size.” V clutched one hand to his forehead and gestured wildly with the other. “Voi-la. In view an ‘umble vaud-villan vet-run carst vic-Airously …”

“Please stop, for god’s sake, stop.” Evey begged.

“I’m runnin’ me mouth again, ain’t I? You can call me Vince.”

“Are you like a crazy person?”

“You takin’ the piss? I ‘ear enuf of that from the likes of them shit for brains.” V gestured over his shoulder at the dead fingermen.

“I’m Evey.”

“Well bugger me. Course you are. E-V. ‘Im upstairs ‘as a right set on ‘im. Are you ‘urt, Evey?”

“No I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Nuffink to it darlin’... You like music, Evey?”

“I suppose.”

“I’m a bit of a long ‘air meself.”

“What kind of musician?”

“Drums, spoons, you name it. Want ta come an’ ‘ear me show?”

“I don’t think so I think I should be getting home.”

“Come on luv, I’d be chuffed. Billy no mates, me. It’ll be the dog’s bollocks. I’ll see you ‘ome safe later.”

“All right,” Evey smiled nervously at V.

“Cushty.”

 

***

 

“It’s beautiful up here,” Evey gazed across the roof tops toward the Old Bailey.

“Bloody marvellous, on a clear night you can see clean to Brixton.”

“I don’t see any instruments.”

“No puttin’ one past you, is there? What’s the date Evey?”

“Um… November 4.”

“No, it ain’t. Not anymore. ‘Ear the clock? It’s the fifth…. An’ ‘ere it comes…” V started to conduct an invisible orchestra.

“I can hear it. How do you do that?”

“Wait, ‘ere’s where they start singin’.”

“What in hell’s name is that caterwauling?” Evey asked with a look of horror.

“Ian Dury and the Blockheads, luv. Before it all went tits up and pear shaped they was banned. They was London’s greatest poets. Bloody brilliant, aren’t they?”

.


	2. Son of Stone the Crows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because every bad idea needs a sequel...

"Try this one on for size darh-lin'...   
Shal I raite you by a summas dai?   
You're bloody loverly you are an' mor' temprate...   
Ruff wins shaike a-bouht the darlin' buds orf May...  
An' summas lees 'ave awl to shawt a daite...   
Sum time to 'ot the i orf 'Ev-en shines…"

"Take me now, V. Right _now_."

"I bleedin' love old Bill sumfink chronic. 'Ees the gov'nor, e is, E-vey. Parts a bird an' her knickers evry time."

"Anything you want V. Anything. Just _please God_ , don't say another word."

 

Out of respect for Mr. Shakespeare, here is his glorious sonnet as intended...

Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,  
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,  
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


End file.
